


2. 'i can't take this anymore'

by restmyheadatnightcontent



Series: febuwhump 2021 [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:13:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29157948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/restmyheadatnightcontent/pseuds/restmyheadatnightcontent
Summary: “I can’t take this anymore Geralt. It’s not the same – I don’t know how I ever thought it would be -we were never going to be able to go back to the way it was before."aka yet another post moutain fic
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: febuwhump 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139954
Comments: 9
Kudos: 189





	2. 'i can't take this anymore'

**Author's Note:**

> bc are you even a witcher writer if you don't write a post mountain breakup fic?

He thought that things would go back to normal. Once Geralt had tracked down the bard, and managed to stumble through an apology which Jaskier had accepted, he had hoped that things would return to the way they had always been.

He had been wrong.

There is an odd tension that follows them around now and he doesn’t know how to get rid of it. They sit across the fire from each other, and it feels as though they are miles apart. Sometimes it feels like Jaskier isn’t really there at all. The silence in the camp that had once been companionable now sits thick and heavy, and trying to make conversation is like wading through thick mud. He tries, but whenever he tries words seem to escape him. Instead he finds himself making dull comments about the weather or their food or the state of the beer in the last time. And Jaskier will answer him with short clipped answers, a far cry from the chatty bard he had travelled with the past twenty years. Jaskier is different, and Geralt supposes that he really should have expected it.

He still sings quietly under his breath as they wander along the path, trying to find the right words for his next composition; he still performs at taverns whenever they stop and flashes his smile and winks at his adoring audience; he still sneaks apples to Roach whenever he thinks Geralt isn’t looking. But he is quieter, his smile is smaller and rarer and his eyes seem a little dimmer, the brilliant blue now more muted. Geralt doesn’t know what to do. He wants the old Jaskier back.

The mountain changed things, the solidity of his relationship with Jaskier now a fragile thing ready to break and shatter at any moment all because of a few harsh words.

“ _If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!”_

Geralt shudders every time he remembers what he said. He didn’t mean it, not really, he was just so angry. Not at Yennefer, but at himself for not telling her the truth sooner and at Borch for doing what he had never been able to do. Jaskier had just been an easy target, and the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

How were things meant to go back to the way they were after that?

He was so relieved that Jaskier had accepted his apology, that he hadn’t put any thought into what would happen after. So now all there is the tension that has been building slowly and Geralt has no clue how to stop it.

It all comes to a head about a month after their reunion. They are staying in an inn and Geralt had gone out on a simple drowner contract, done his job, collected his coin from the alderman only to return to their room to find Jaskier packing up his things.

“You’re leaving?” he asks, standing in the doorway, drowner blood dripping from his hands.

Jaskier just nods and continues to fold and pack his clothes.

Geralt had hoped that his apology would have been enough to make up for what he said on the mountain, that any wounds his words has caused had healed. But clearly not, _just like putting salve on a tumour_ , a voice in the back of his head whispers.

He continues to stare dumbly as Jaskier moves around the room. Of course he was going to leave, that was the life of a Witcher – he was meant to be alone. His mother, Yennefer, and now Jaskier – everyone always left in the end.

But he was so tired of it. He just wanted someone to stay. He wanted Jaskier to stay.

“Why?” The word manages to force itself around the lump that seems to have formed in his throat.

Jaskier sighs and his hands still where they had been folding a doublet, “I think you know why, Geralt.”

“Please – don’t,” Geralt pleads.

Jaskier turns to face him and his heart drops to see that the bright blue eyes are clouded with tears.

“I can’t take this anymore Geralt. It’s not the same – I don’t know how I ever thought it would be -we were never going to be able to go back to the way it was before,” he says and swallows “What you said on the mountain – it hurt, Geralt. It really hurt. And I know you apologised, and I said I forgave you – I thought that it would be enough. That we would be able to carry on. But I just – I can’t do it anymore. I can’t act like nothing has changed. I can’t go back to the way it was before and I don’t know where we can go from here. I’m sorry. I think it would just be better if I left.”

“I’m sorry – I just – I don’t know how to fix it,” Geralt whispers.

“I’m not sure that it can be fixed,” Jaskier smiles sadly.

No, there has to be a way. “I know I didn’t do a very good job this time around, but please let me try again. To make it up to you – properly.”

“Geralt, I—” Jaskier starts but is cut off when Geralt steps up and takes his hands.

“Please Jaskier. I know I hurt you and I have regretted those words ever since I said them. I don’t want you to leave – I want you to walk beside me. Just – give me another chance. A chance to prove myself a worth travel companion.” Geralt is well aware that he is asking for a chance that he doesn’t deserve, but he doesn’t know what else to do “Please. Just give me some time. A week to try. And – and then I’ll let you go. I won’t trouble you again,” he begs. And he would beg properly, sink to his knees and grovel if he thought it would help. _Witchers do not beg_ , he can hear his trainers words in his head but right now he does not care. He would do anything in the world just to get Jaskier to stay.

Jaskier must see the desperation in his eyes because he squeezes Geralts hands and says, “Okay. One week.”

And so Geralt tries.

They stay another night in the inn so that Jaskier can have one more night in a proper bed and eat proper food before they head back onto the path. He buys pastries from the market that he knows Jaskier likes before they set off; he gives the other man longer turns riding Roach, until he complains that he cannot ride and compose as it is too hard to balance whilst playing his lute; they take more frequent breaks so that Jaskier can enjoy the scenery; in the evening when they are sat by the fire, he will offer up stories of old hunts that he thinks will give the other man good song material; he begins to offer up his opinion on which melody he prefers when the bard is trying to decide which one fits the story better.

It is not much, but every day Jaskiers smile grows a little bit wider and a little bit brighter, Geralt can’t help but hope that it’s working.

“Where to then, Witcher?” Jaskier asks as they are preparing to leave the camp, fastening his bedroll onto Roach’s saddle.

“How about the coast?”

Jaskier’s eyes widen slightly with surprise before he manages to school his features, but as they begin their journey and Geralt turns to see a small smile on the bards face, he feels the weight in his chest lighten just a bit.

Maybe they would be alright.

Maybe Jaskier would stay.


End file.
